The Boston Marathon bombings, PTSD, Mental Healthcare and the side effects

I am very saddened and upset over the recent bombings at the Boston Marathon 2013. I pray for all those affected by this heinous cowardly act. There are so many that have lost limbs and have suffered great injuries and I pray for their recovery. I also know there were 3 that lost their lives that day and a brave police officer that became the 4th victim. All of them were such a joy to everyone around them and they will be sorely missed by all that knew them.   They each had such a promising future and the world has lost their gifts and contributions they would have made in their future to our society. However it seems all left a lasting impact on this world in their lives cut too short.   Those talented and amazing people we lost in this attack were Krystle Campbell, 29, a female restaurant manager, Lü Lingzi 23, a female Boston University graduate student who was a Chinese national, and the youngest victim Martin Richard, an eight-year-old boy who held a sign that said "No more hurting people, Peace."  The brave police officer who gave his life to protect and to serve during the aftermath was MIT police officer Sean Collier.

While I myself have never experienced PTSD, it is classified as a mental illness  One of my largest drives and passion in life is to try to help others understand mental illness better and this is no different.  PTSD stands for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and it is a severe anxiety disorder that can develop after exposure to any event that results in psychological trauma.  It is so important that those that are going through this get the help they need. I cannot imagine the horror that day must be bring for so many. I know just seeing it on the news channels had a depressive effect on me, but I get to turn the channel. Those affected by that day cannot shut it off so easily. I can only go back to the time that I lived in Atlanta and experienced the horror around that cowardly act at the 1996 Summer Olympics to somehow relate. The victims of this attack go beyond the ones that received medical care that day. There were over 200 that went to a hospital that day but that does not count those that were present that day that will have lasting trauma. I started talking about the treatment of PTSD because I am sure many will be have this in the aftermath. However there will also be many that will experience grief, depression, anxiety, and panic attacks to name just a few. The National Alliance on Mental Illness is always a great source to find out more information and find support at NAMI

It is so important that those that need therapy do in fact receive it regardless of their financial situation. I know some have a lot of medical care ahead of them with their physical injuries but I hope they also seek help and receive therapy for any mental trauma they experienced. One of the many things that I have witnessed during the aftermath of this horrific act were Veterans visiting those wounded in the bombing. The wonderful acts of the Veterans going to visit those injured in the hospital will surely help them as they tell their own stories. They shared their experiences and told so many that their lives would be different but left them with a hopeful future. This is example of therapy that does not cost a dime and it is very beneficial to have a support group during this time. I know it helps to talk to others that went through similar experiences that know how they feel. There are so many ways to reach out to others and help them in some ways that not many can. So many will be facing so much recovery in the upcoming months and life changes and the sense of community sharing in the recovery is key I think to begin the healing. This rings true with probably just about any other illness and this is no different.

Boston is such a wonderful city and I often traveled there for business trips at a previous job. I always enjoyed the warm welcome from this amazing city. The people I met and spent time with in the Boston area made me feel at home and they made a large city feel like a friendly small town. The day of the attack I watched such selfless acts and everyone helping each other. As many have said time and time again during these times that the worst is seen out of people, it also shows the very best in people that outways any cowardly act.  I was so amazed to see how many people did not even hesitate to run toward the bombing sites and help as many as possible.   This gives me some renewed hope in our current society that can sometimes seem cold and divided.  

There has been a fund set up to help the victims of the bombings with medical care that can be found at The One Fund Please check it out and help if possible. However, there are many ways to help out that involves no money as I highlighted above. An example of this is when I saw that a man volunteered to cut the grass of one of the survivors that lost both legs. There is so much support of those that had lives changed that day but the hope is that we do not forget them when the cameras roll away. I have referred to many as victims that day but they have proved me wrong because they are true survivors.

 

 

 God bless the city of Boston and keep staying strong

 

Down but not Out

After a very long depressing Winter I am finally thawing out and feeling the sun on my face.  As I wrote in my last blog article which was months ago that I was struggling with the idea that my Psychiatrist of over 10 years was thinking of changing the scope of his practice and moving to a new career path.  He finally made his decision at the end of last year and I had been stuck in the "grief" phases since then.  To me losing him as my doctor was similar to a death.  To me it was like losing a member of my family.   He has helped me through so many rough times and the ups and downs of my illness.  He helped get me through a very painful abusive marriage.  He helped me decide that applying for SSDI was the right decision for my life at that time and helped me every step of the way.  The first time I saw him he said God has sent you to me and I am here to help you.  He made more progress with me and my illness then any other Psychiatrist.  He truly treated me with dignity and not like a number as some can.  He truly cared about my well being and I felt like I could share anything with him.  He made me realize that I was much more than my illness and the I had an illness and that I was not my illness.  I trusted him with everything about my treatment and he knew me as well as my parents and just about anyone in my life.  So the thought of losing him in my support team was something that I could not accept for awhile.

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross stated in her book titled On Death and Dying, that most people dealt with grief and tragedy in five stages.  Well to me losing my main link to my well being and stability was like a huge tragedy.  I feel like I went through these phases losing my doctor.  First I was in huge denial.  I felt "Oh he won't stop treating me and this can not be happening to me".   That lasted almost six weeks.  Then I was very angry at him for leaving and moving on to other areas of his field and not going to be there to help me.  Yes this was all about me and me and me and it was all about me.  I didn't think of the new patients he would now be helping and that maybe they needed him more than I did.   This I admit was the selfish phase. This stage only lasted for a few days because I could not be mad at the person that saved my life many times over in so many areas of my life.  In the bargaining phase I begged and prayed to God that he would not leave and change his mind.  But then I received the official letter and that was it because the words were in black and white.  It was hard to deny that he was no longer going to treat me for my illness.   However I think the letter helped because  he stated it was a difficult decision for him to move onto a new career change.  That was the day I knew I had to find a new doctor very soon because my depression was getting worse by the minute.  I think I spent a total of 3 weeks in bed mostly and cried and ate all the worst food ever and watched brainless television and did nothing productive for weeks.  I had to call in my support team of my parents and my husband and they got me through this rough time.   I even attempted to put two suicide attempts in place over one week.   That was about two weeks ago.  One was that I looked around my home and tied a scarf around my neck and tried to find the right place to hang myself and then another of locking myself in the bathroom with all my medicine and sitting in a bathtub wanting to take them all and just never waking up again.   My family was close enough and watching me and I never got too far into the suicide plan.  This might seem silly to most people getting this upset over losing my doctor but he was my main lifeline in my care and now it was gone.

However I truly believe God has a plan for my life and that the last ten years was just a season and maybe it was time for me to not be selfish and think of others and all the people that he will help with their mental illness.  So after my most darkness moments,  I finally found  a doctor's name in my old records that treated me in an inpatient care facility when I was suicidal in 2002.  I remembered he did a great job during my stay and that maybe he might be an option.  I called and they had an opening and that was that the start of the closure of my old doctor and crossing the bridge to my new journey with my new doctor.  I was on the way to start another chapter and move on with my recovery.  I had my mom go with me because I was having terrible anxiety about seeing someone new that did not know me or my history.  I was shaking and a nervous wreck and could not drive or go by myself.  I sat there in the office and cried before the new doctor came in because I knew that when that doorknob turned it would be a brand new face and I had no idea what to expect.  I also knew I would not see the bright shiny face of my previous doctor and I was so scared.   My session went as well as it could with all the changes but I felt good about his treatment plan he put into place.  He put me on a new anti-depressant, Wellbutrin SR and a new mood stabilizer that I had never heard of before called, Lamictal.  Thankfully he left me on my anxiety medicine to treat my social anxiety and my OCD.  Well I know it's too soon to tell but I feel very hopeful for once in a several months.  I feel fairly stable at the moment and my head feels clearer. 

Another good thing that happened was that I am a Christan but due to my social anxiety I had a hard time going to a church with a lot of people that I did not know.  I really hated this because that was something huge missing in my life that I truly needed to get through each day.   But I finally made it back in the doors of the church and the people could not be kinder and I feel so much better and closer to God.  My faith in God has always helped me get through the tough times of my illness, but over the last few years I felt a great distance from God though I know he never left me and has been carrying me all this time.    I am so grateful for my family and my wonderful husband who are always there for me and try to help my stability rather than bring me down.  I know it is not my time to die and that taking my own life would have been very wrong and would of  hurt so many people that I love dearly in life.   I am just grateful God and my family were there to save me.  Bipolar Disorder is a roller coaster and I know my moods will still rock up and down but at least now I feel better I have a doctor in place when there are bumps in my path.   It just shows anyone that might be reading this that even though I have been in treatment for almost 23 years that I still struggle each day and treatment is vital to be stable.    I will turn 40 this year and hitting that number does not make me sad it makes me happy that I am still fighting the fight and made it another year. Bipolar Disorder seems to always knock me down but I come up swinging and fighting and refuse to let an illness control me but rather control it.